<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Improvisation by thedevilchicken</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23651191">Improvisation</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilchicken/pseuds/thedevilchicken'>thedevilchicken</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>tuesnight: the eighth day of the week [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>RED (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Assassins &amp; Hitmen, F/M, Team Up, Undercover as a Couple</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:21:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>666</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23651191</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilchicken/pseuds/thedevilchicken</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>She's always believed the best work comes from meticulous planning coupled with the ability to improvise. This little jaunt with Han Cho Bai really hasn't persuaded her otherwise.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Han Cho Bai/Victoria Winslow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>tuesnight: the eighth day of the week [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1713367</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>What Fen Do (Instead of Going Outside), When Death Loves Flamingos</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Improvisation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesnight/gifts">tuesnight</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Han wears a sharp suit and he smiles a sharp smile and frankly, when he offers her his arm, when she takes it and they walk out of the building, when the windows shatter behind them in a brilliant shower and the fire of the explosion warms her skin, she's not sure if it's the semtex or the company that she enjoys the most. </p><p>They didn't actually plan this together, at least not initially. She's always believed the best work comes from meticulous planning coupled with the ability to improvise, and this really hasn't done anything to persuade her otherwise; when she walked into the hotel lobby two days ago and met him at the counter checking in, she realised quite quickly that improvisation would be required. Her meticulous plans had been scuppered by an assassin in a lovely tailored jacket with a pistol underneath.</p><p>"The Norwegian?" he asked, as they made their way to the elevators. </p><p>She arched her eyebrows at him. She looked him up and down appraisingly. He didn't seem to mind at all, which she can only assume was because he knew how she'd appraise him. She'd call him cocky, if the truth weren't he's cocky but right.</p><p>"The South African," she replied, as the doors slid closed after them. </p><p>"Don't get in my way and I won't get in yours," he said. </p><p>She laughed. She leaned close and squeezed his arm. "Oh, you charming boy," she said. "Do you really think that hasn't already happened?"</p><p>The look he gave her said he knew it had. It also said he liked her sundress, but wondered where she was keeping her gun.</p><p>When she went down to the restaurant the next night, he was sitting at the bar; when she slid onto the next high stool and joined him, he bought her a drink. Both of them seemed to assume they'd eat together, and they made spectacular small talk that veiled plans underneath. When she teased him, he tried not to smile but didn't mind when he failed. When he teased her back, she laughed in delight. Then they went to his room and she watched him make a bomb while she serviced her Beretta; anyone watching their movements would have likely assumed sex, not the local chapter of Assassins Anonymous. </p><p>This morning, she woke up in his bed. He'd slept on the sofa, almost like a gentleman, though she explained she's not very much of a lady. And when he stepped out of the bathroom with a towel at his waist and a <i>look</i> on his face, she clucked her tongue and said, "You know, if you're trying to seduce me, it's much more fun in the nude." </p><p>He laughed. He took off the towel. Perhaps it wasn't necessary for their cover that he came to bed, or put his mouth between her thighs, but it did rather help to pass the time. </p><p>Fourteen seconds ago, they blew up the penthouse. Just a little bit. Nothing structural. Easy enough to give a lick of paint once they've finished scrubbing off the blood, and they killed two birds with one stone: one Norwegian, and one South African.</p><p>Behind them, what sounds like several hundred alarms have started blaring. He opens the passenger side door of his car for her at the valet station and she steps inside. A moment later, he joins her. </p><p>"So, London?" he says, and gives her a sideways glance as he revs the engine in a highly unnecessary manner. </p><p>She wrinkles her nose. "Monte Carlo, I think," she replies. "Don't you like a little risk?"</p><p>He doesn't say yes, but he doesn't say no. He just puts pedal to metal and he speeds away, a show she suspects is for her benefit. </p><p>Maybe she'll cut him in on the next job, she thinks; he's not so bad a partner, given they both usually prefer working alone. </p><p>And maybe, next time, she'll even show him where she keeps her gun.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>